Sending Out Flares
by racefh853629
Summary: Did you break, but never mend? Did it hurt so much you thought it was the end? Lose your heart, but don't know when. And no one cares. There's no one there... Possible spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own CSI:NY, Blue Bloods, or any other known entity. There are a few OCs (like the desk sergeant) that will pop up along the way, and they do belong to me. The title of this story and the summary come from the song "Flares" by The Script. This story is set around this year, and is AU (depending on what happens in tonight's season finale, either way off base or somewhat close). I hope you guys enjoy this story, and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter One

Jamie wasn't sure he was ready for this.

Sure, he had done a lot that most beat cops don't do. Undercover assignments, lead investigator into a cold case here and there. Handling the Blue Templar. Handling Danny, too, for that matter. Hell, he was a lawyer. He _should_ be able to handle this, no problem.

And yet, he was nervous.

He smoothed down his jacket, more to wipe the sweat off his palms than to actually smooth a wrinkle. When that didn't work, he rubbed his hands together, taking a few slow breaths. He had learned yesterday who his new partner was, a guy with years of experience and "a background he could respect." But he couldn't figure out what that was supposed to mean.

And that made Jamie nervous.

* * *

Flack nodded to Sergeant Kevin Hall, the desk sergeant, as he signed in for shift. He wasn't exactly in the mood to talk today more than the required "hey" or "how's it going". Kevin handed him a paper, and Flack nodded again, walking deeper into the precinct.

The paper was a request, asking him to appear in court next week to testify on a case he closed two years ago. The guy was guilty as hell, but it wouldn't be a supposedly fair and just system if even the jackasses didn't have their day. Flack shook his head, putting it down on his desk before sitting in his chair. He opened the calendar on his phone, quickly entering it in before texting the ADA that sent it as an acknowledgement that he'd be there.

"Detective Flack?"

Flack looked up to the sandy haired kid next to him. The kid didn't seem much younger than him, dressed in a suit and tie, equipped with a holstered gun and a shiny new gold shield. Flack nodded in response.

"Jamie Reagan," he offered, extending his hand. "Your, uh, new partner."

Flack stood up, shaking Jamie's hand. "Flack or Don," he said softly, in as neutral a tone as he could muster.

"Reagan or Jamie."

Flack nodded, gesturing for Jamie to take a seat in the chair normally reserved for someone Flack was interviewing. "Just got the bump, huh?" he asked.

"Sort of," Jamie replied as he sat.

"You're the PC's youngest, right?"

Jamie nodded.

Flack smiled lightly. "My old man used to be a cop too. Tends to run in the family, huh?"

Jamie smiled, nodding again.

"Met your brother Danny once."

"I never really know how to react to that statement," Jamie said. "I mean, should I apologize?"

Flack chuckled. "Just wait until you meet Messer," he replied.

Jamie smiled. "I've heard about him. From my brother."

Flack nodded with a chuckle. "Oh, I can imagine how that one went."

Jamie nodded.

"Anyway, that desk over there is empty," Flack said, gesturing at one across from him. "It's all yours."

"Okay," Jamie said, standing up.

"The Sarge has the keys," Flack added, gesturing toward the front desk. "Get yourself settled in for a bit, then I'll fill you in on today."

"Okay," Jamie repeated.

"Welcome aboard."

"Thanks."

Flack nodded, turning back to the computer in front of him.

* * *

Jamie made his way into the front, understanding what they meant about Flack's background. Family of cops. Long shadow to stand in. Flack and Jamie came from a similar type of cloth.

"Sergeant," Jamie said, catching the attention of the desk.

"Detective, what can I do for you?" Kevin replied.

"Can I get keys for a desk?"

"Which one did they give you?"

"The one across from Detective Flack."

Kevin paused as he reached for the keys. "Which one?" he asked.

Jamie knit his brow together. "That one," he said, pointing at the same one Flack had just pointed out.

Kevin nodded slowly, pulling out the keys for the aforementioned desk.

"Is there a problem?" Jamie asked.

Kevin shook his head. "No," he replied. "Just surprised. Detective Flack had asked us to keep that desk empty since I've been here, and that's been at least three years."

Jamie felt completely confused. "Why?"

Kevin shrugged slightly. "You'll have to ask him." He handed Jamie the keys. "Take it easy, kid. Welcome to the detective's bureau."

"Thanks," Jamie said, walking away in utter confusion. As he made his way back over to the desk, Flack looked up.

"Getting settled is gonna have to wait," he addressed his new partner. "We got a case. More like a body."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: See the first chapter for the disclaimer. The story Flack references is in the CSI:NY episode "Tri-Borough". I hope you guys enjoy this one, and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter Two

The drive to the scene was short and not filled with much conversation. There wasn't much _to_ say. Jamie wasn't sure how to ask about the desk, and Flack didn't have anything pertinent to share at the time. As they pulled up, though, Flack spoke.

"I know you've been on the beat, and on the receiving end," he said. "But what you wanna do when you get here is find out what's goin' on. Sometimes it's different than what dispatch has already told you. We talk to the first officers on the scene, start them canvassing for witnesses, and then brief crime scene upon their arrival. Unless they happen to beat us to the scene, which happens sometimes."

Jamie nodded, but said nothing.

"You've been called to DOAs before, right?"

"Been stuck a time or two with a rotting corpse," Jamie replied.

Flack chuckled. "Which partner was that with?" he asked.

"Training officer, Sergeant Renzulli."

Flack smirked. "He's a good guy." He shook his head. "Alright, let's get going."

Jamie nodded, getting out of the car at the same time as Flack. From nearby, a man laughed.

"Ten minutes workin' together and you're already synchronized, huh?" he commented.

"Jealous?" Flack replied, turning toward the source of the interruption.

The man shrugged slightly. "I'm good with sharin'."

Flack smirked lightly, turning back to Jamie. "Detective Jamie Reagan, meet Detective Danny Messer."

"How you doin'?" Messer asked, giving Jamie a half-wave.

"So far, so good," Jamie replied, waving back.

Messer smirked. "Yeah? Wait 'til you see our corpse." He gestured with the camera.

"Victim's a female, 20s, not sure what race," a person wearing an OCME jacket said. "Body's pretty decomposed."

"How long?" Flack asked.

"I'd say a few days. Not enough to wear away all the flesh, but enough to obscure color. Plus, got that nice bloat going on."

Jamie looked at the ME's assistant curiously.

"Ignore Alan," Messer advised. "His comedic senses are a little off."

Jamie nodded as Alan scoffed.

"You only wish you had my skills," he said to Messer before turning to Jamie. "Friday nights at the Hub-Bub Club."

Flack grunted. "Do you think you can quit plugging your gig long enough to guess at a cause of death?" he interrupted.

"Geez, Flack, who pissed in your corn flakes?"

Flack just offered a look.

Alan shrugged. "Newbie wanna take a guess?"

Flack looked over at Jamie, who was just watching. "Go ahead," the veteran said.

Jamie shrugged, kneeling over the body. Flack watched curiously. "Can I get some gloves?" Jamie asked softly.

Messer smirked. "Here you go," he said, passing a set over.

Jamie snapped them on before looking at the assistant. "May I?"

"By all means," Alan replied. "I think Messer got enough glamour shots."

Jamie reached over and unfolded part of the jacket. "There was an insignia here," he noted. "Area's a lot less faded than the rest of the coat. Lots of trauma but no stains on the coat, so either she was dressed after she was killed, the water washed away the stains, or the trauma happened after death from floating down the river."

"Your guess?" Flack asked, more patiently than he had been with Alan.

Jamie shrugged. "Post-mortem trauma. These wounds don't even look like they bled at all."

"Water coulda washed away the blood," Messer suggested.

Jamie shook his head. "Looks like the tissue didn't react at all," he said softly.

Messer smirked. "Sid's gonna like you."

"So, cause unknown pending autopsy?" Flack asked.

"Might be asphyxiation," Jamie offered.

"Based on…?"

"The red dots on her face."

"Looks like fine acne to me," Alan said.

Jamie shook his head again. "Could be petechiae. And I'm thinking she's not in her 20s. She's younger, probably high school. Coat could be from her school." Jamie stood up. "And the clothes she's wearing is stuff I see my nephew's friends wearing, not my niece's."

Messer smirked. "If you're right, kid, I'm buyin' the first round tonight."

Flack nudged Jamie's arm. "If you're done showin' off, let's go canvass the neighborhood for witnesses."

Jamie nodded, disposing of his gloves and feeling a little like a scolded child.

After they had walked away, Flack said, "You did good. Dump jobs are hard reads. We can canvass around here all we want, but it's guys like Messer that are gonna get us to where she was dumped with all the math and science stuff. But that's a good catch with the trauma."

Jamie nodded again, saying nothing.

"We're not likely to find any information around here, either," Flack added. "Too secluded. Only one occupied building in this complex. Witness who called it in was the landlord's daughter. We're gonna talk to her, then see if anyone else saw anything in the building. Knock and talks are the fun part of the job."

Jamie offered a small smile.

Flack looked over at his new partner. "You sensitive, Reagan?"

"Not really," Jamie said finally. "Just… don't wanna overstep my boundaries."

Flack shook his head. "We'd asked for your thoughts, and you gave them," he said. "Nothin' wrong with that. Your observations are good. Your opinions are great if you're right. If you're wrong, then you'll learn something new. Each case does that for you." Flack chuckled softly. "Like that you _can_ actually get killed by a crapsicle."

Jamie furrowed his brow. "A _what_?"

Flack just laughed.

* * *

"What's good, Sid?" Flack asked as he and Jamie made their way into Autopsy.

"Detective, I haven't see you down here in a long time," the older man replied. "What brings you this way?"

"New partner to show around. Detective Jamie Reagan, Dr. Sid Hammerback."

"Ahh, yes," Sid said. "The police commissioner's youngest son. Harvard educated lawyer, right?"

Jamie shrugged. "Not that I use it much, but yeah, I still have my card," he said.

"I'd shake hands, but I'm a little full of your Jane Doe here. I heard about your assumptions at the scene, Detective Reagan. And you're correct, she is in her teens and the trauma injuries _were_ post-mortem. But she wasn't asphyxiated. Or, well, not exactly."

"How'd she die?" Flack asked.

"She drowned," Sid said. "Fluid in the lungs."

Flack looked over at Jamie, who was studying the body. "Ask," he instructed his partner.

"You said not exactly asphyxiated," Jamie said, looking at Sid.

Sid smiled. "Sharp, like your father and your brothers," he said. "I can't rule out a drug overdose, which can sometimes mimic a drowning. Then there's also medical conditions that can lead to that. We'll know more once the tox panel and lab work comes back."

Flack looked over at Jamie again. "What're you thinkin' about, Reagan?" he asked.

"Who doesn't notice their teenage daughter isn't home?"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! I truly appreciate them. :) See the first chapter for the disclaimer. I hope you guys enjoy this one, and please review.

* * *

Chapter Three

"Melissa Kennedy, 16 years old, runaway," Messer said as Flack and Jamie made their way onto the 34th floor and into one of the labs. "Got a hit on the prints from a missing person's report out of Bangor, Maine. I talked to the father, who said he was on his way, but didn't know what his daughter got mixed up in. Though, he wasn't surprised to find out she was dead."

Jamie arched his eyebrows. "What kind of father isn't surprised his teenage daughter is dead?" he asked.

Flack scoffed lightly. "There are times mine wouldn't have been," he said. At Jamie's look, he added, "you'd have to meet Sam."

Jamie shrugged, but said nothing.

"Never had any sisters," Messer said, shrugging.

"Tox screen came up positive for heroin," another man said as he came in.

"Detective Dr. Sheldon Hawkes, Detective Jamie Reagan," Flack introduced.

"Nice to meet you," Hawkes said.

"Did she OD?"

"Hard to say for sure. With her level of decomp we can isolate that she had heroin in her system, but the exact concentrations can't be determined."

"Adam's working on tracking river currents given the approximate time of death from Sid to find a location where she might have gone in," Messer said.

"Somewhere up the river," Adam added from behind a computer screen.

"Thank you for that," Flack said sarcastically. "Anythin' slightly more specific?"

"Patience, Grasshopper."

Jamie chuckled softly, which drew Adam's attention.

"Jamie Reagan," he said over the computer screen.

"Adam Ross," Jamie replied.

"Finally got the gold, huh?"

"Yeah."

Flack looked between the two of them.

"Jamie, uh, helped bring my father in a time or two," Adam supplied.

Jamie nodded, but didn't add anything further.

"He liked Eddie," Adam said.

Jamie chuckled slightly. "Eddie knew it, too," he said.

"She still working that beat?"

"For now. She's got a new partner."

"I'm sure she misses you."

Jamie smiled slightly, but said nothing as Adam's computer beeped.

"Alright, given what we already know, we have an approximate location for where she went into the river," Adam said, pulling it up on a big screen for everyone to see. "Now, any trace on her clothes was likely compromised by the water, so we don't have an exact."

Flack nodded, looking at the highlighted area. "You up for a walk, Reagan?"

* * *

"I didn't realize you knew Adam," Flack said as they got out of the car a few miles upriver from where Melissa's body had been found.

"Can't say I really _know_ him," Jamie replied, shrugging. "We'd met a few times."

"You met his father, huh?"

"Yeah."

Flack nodded. "Father has Alzheimer's."

"I kinda figured that out when he called _me_ Adam and tried to punch me in the face."

Flack nodded again. "He get you?"

Jamie shook his head. "Nothing serious."

Flack glanced over at Jamie, and was getting ready to say something, when they were interrupted.

"You here about the damn junkies?" a man asked.

Flack and Jamie turned at the voice to find an older gentleman gesturing between them.

"The damn bastards come back here to shoot up," he continued. "It's enough to make you sick."

"How about this woman?" Flack asked, showing him a picture of the victim.

The man scoffed. "Yeah, she was here last week. Shooting up over there on the wall. Started convulsing and went over. I took this video, just so you can see what I mean. What happened to her?"

"Well, her body washed up down river."

"Serves her right."

"Your compassion is refreshing, Mr…?"

"Nichols. Aaron Nichols. And I don't have any compassion for the junkies, thieves, and whores that inhabit this alley every night. They're ruining this neighborhood, and you people haven't done anything to stop them. It's downright disgusting."

"Anyone in the alley with her when she started convulsing?"

Nichols shrugged. "Watch the video for yourself. I got a ton of them."

Flack and Jamie looked at each other.

* * *

"Guy sees a woman in distress, doesn't call 911," Jamie said, shaking his head as he leaned back against Flack's desk.

"People are crazy," Flack replied, resting back in his chair.

"Never ceases to amaze me."

Flack shrugged. "The video shows her shooting up. No one else there, she has a medical emergency, convulses, and ends up in the river."

"Accident."

Flack nodded. "Write up a rough draft of the report, and I'll go over it with you afterward."

Jamie nodded, heading over to the empty desk.

* * *

"You're letting him have that desk?" Mac asked as he and Flack stood just outside the squad room.

Flack shrugged. "Had to let it go some time, right?" he replied.

Mac didn't answer either way.

"He's also the Commissioner's son."

"From what I hear, the PC doesn't really play favorites for his sons," Mac said.

"It's not really favorites," Flack replied. "It's the desk across from mine. It should belong to my partner."

Mac nodded.

"Gotta let it go eventually," Flack reiterated.

Mac didn't say anything, choosing to pat Flack's arm as he walked away. Flack walked back into the squad room.

"How you doin' with the report?" he asked his new partner.

Jamie shrugged. "Making progress," he replied.

Flack leaned over Jamie's shoulder, reading. "Looks good so far. Wrap that up, put it on my desk, and we'll go grab somethin' to eat after tour."

"I can't," Jamie said hesitantly. "We're kinda doing this thing over at my dad's house tonight. You're welcome to stop by, though."

"No, I wouldn't want to intrude," Flack said. "We'll catch up tomorrow. It was good workin' with you, Reagan. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay."

Flack walked away before Jamie could say or do anything else.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: See the first chapter for the disclaimer. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please review! :)

* * *

Chapter Four

"I'm here," Jamie announced as he walked into his childhood home with pizza.

"Back here," Frank replied from the dining room.

Jamie nodded, walking further into the house. Erin and Linda were rearranging things on the table while Danny hung around in the kitchen with the boys.

"I thought you would've forgotten, first day and all," Henry joked as he made his way into the dining room.

"I never forget pizza," Jamie replied with a smirk.

Henry chuckled.

"Who'd they put you with?" Danny asked as he came in, with Sean and Jack trailing behind him.

"Don Flack," Jamie replied as he set down the pizza on the table.

"Met him once. Good detective, but a pain in the ass."

"Huh. Kinda reminds me of you."

Danny swatted as Jamie ducked.

"Got quite a few years in," Frank commented as the group settled around the table.

"So I've heard," Jamie replied. "Met a couple of the crime scene guys, and the M.E. they work with the most."

"Which one is that?" Danny asked.

"Dr. Hammerback."

Danny chuckled. "Don't get him going on one of his stories."

Jamie shrugged. "Might be interesting to hear."

"Yeah, that's one word for it."

Jamie smirked.

After Grace was said, Danny asked Jamie, "you meet Detective Danny Messer yet?"

"Yeah," Jamie replied. "He's a good guy."

Danny shrugged. "Not what I've heard. Then again, that was before he got married and had kids."

"Kids change everything," Erin chimed in, looking down the table.

"How's Nicki doing in college?" Jamie asked, changing the subject.

"Good…"

* * *

Flack planned to spend his night in front of the TV, doing nothing more than eating chicken and watching the hockey game. He had hoped Messer would've been able to hang out, but Lucy had a game tonight. Flack could have gone- most everyone else from the lab had been planning on doing just that. But for whatever reason, he decided not to.

His plans for doing nothing got interrupted by a text.

_You still up?_

Flack smiled slightly at the thought of spending time with Lovato, his former partner in homicide. _Yeah, I'm here,_ he replied. His apartment door opened a moment later, and he smiled. "Miss me already?" he asked as he stood and made his way over to greet her.

"Kind of," she replied, giving him a hug and a kiss. "No one makes coffee like you do."

He laughed softly. "What's going on? How was your day?"

"Same as always, only slightly different. It's weird being part of the decision making as opposed to following orders. How was yours?"

"New partner started today," he told her as they sat down on the couch.

"Oh yeah? Who'd they give you?"

"Jamie Reagan, beat guy from within the house."

"Didn't I meet him somewhere along the way?"

Flack shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. I don't think I've ever really talked to him all that much."

"The difference between beat cops and detectives."

"He was probably just another uniform on the scene to me. Didn't even know he was there."

She shrugged. "12th's a big precinct. And you've always spent more time in the lab with Messer than you do in the squad room with the beat cops."

"True."

She rubbed Flack's shoulder gently. "So, how is he?"

Flack shrugged again. "First day with a gold shield, and he's already better at guessing COD than some experienced detectives."

"Not all work homicide," Lovato reminded him.

"Yeah," he replied. "But Jamie's gonna be a helluva detective once he gets his confidence in him."

She scoffed slightly. "Oh, great, just what we need. _Two_ cocky Detective Reagans running around."

Flack laughed. "Somehow, I don't think we really need to worry about Jamie going down that path. He's too nice of a kid."

Lovato tilted her head. "You never know. Kid's been written up for insubordination, suspended, been investigated by IA a few times…"

"Danny's been investigated more," Flack said.

"Yeah, but Danny's had a longer career," she replied. "Proportionally, I think Jamie might have gotten in more trouble."

Flack shrugged. "True."

"So, besides the new detective, what else is going on with you? We haven't seen each other as much lately."

"Not since you transferred out," he replied.

"It's been crazy," she told him. "And, I just… every day together…"

"I know," he told her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"I know you've been there before. And no matter what, it's not easy. But while Danny and Lindsay make it work…"

"Jamie, it's okay. Besides, I don't think the Captain was too happy with the idea. Especially not since…"

Lovato nodded, leaning into Flack's touch. "Did you finally surrender the desk?" she asked.

Flack nodded. "Reagan has it now."

"Good. That desk should be your partner's. You shouldn't have to shout across the squad room at them."

"I know. And I'm sorry that I never even let you have it. But…"

"You don't have to explain. I told you that."

Flack nodded again, saying nothing.

"I get it," she continued. "I always have."

"I know," he said softly. "And I love you for that."

"I love you too." She kissed him again, and he pulled her closer. "So, what was tonight's grand idea? Because after this week, I'd like something quiet."

"Hockey."

"I'm down for that." She rested her head against Flack's chest gently. "Wait, didn't Lucy have a game tonight?"

"She does," he said.

"And you're here because…?" she said.

Flack shook his head, which answered Lovato's question more than words would have.

So, instead, she nodded.

* * *

Jamie sat in the living room after dinner with Frank, drinking a beer. Danny and Linda had left with the boys, and Erin was still in the dining room with Henry. Frank looked at his youngest as the hockey game went on in the background.

"What's on your mind, son?" Frank asked.

"Huh?" Jamie replied, looking over at his father.

"Everything alright?"

"Just thinking."

"About the job?"

"About my partner. Trying to figure out why the desk has been empty."

Frank nodded quietly.

"Same precinct, you'd think I'd have met Detective Flack before this, and that I'd know what was going on."

"You two wouldn't know each other if you didn't cross paths," Frank reminded him.

Jamie shrugged. "I could've seen him before and never knew it."

"That's possible."

"But why would he keep the desk empty?"

Frank looked at Jamie.

"I know," Jamie said. "I'm a detective now. I can figure it out."

"Or you could just ask him," Frank said.

Jamie snorted lightly. "Last resort. Mostly because either he's gonna clam up, or he'll lie."

"He may surprise you."

Jamie shrugged. "He's hard to get a read on."

"He's a great detective," Frank said. "He's tough, but fair. He can teach you a lot on the job."

Jamie nodded.

"But, Detective Flack also has his downsides," Frank continued. "You'll learn those, too. But I think you two will get along just fine."

"How well do you know him?"

Frank tilted his head to the side and back. "I know enough about him to know you two will be fine."

Jamie nodded again, taking a drink from his beer.

* * *

Lovato had fallen asleep partway through the game, leaving Flack holding her silently. Moments like this… he had so many nights of thinking this would never happen again. But yet, here he was, holding her in his arms.

Letting her drool on his shoulder.

He thought about waking her up, but decided against it. Sometimes, a wet shoulder was the price to pay for intimacy.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So sorry for the long time between updates. See the first chapter for the disclaimer. I hope you all enjoy this one, and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter Five

Jamie was waiting for Flack in the squad room the next morning, sitting at what was now his desk, rearranging the computer for what had to be the hundredth time. He wasn't sure exactly how he wanted it to be just yet, nor was he sure if the fidgeting was more about location or fighting off nerves.

Flack was late.

Jamie wasn't sure what to make of it, not really knowing Flack all that well. But, at the same time, others in the squad room seemed somewhat concerned. Especially when another man Jamie hadn't formally met yet had walked over.

"Detective Mac Taylor, head of the Crime Scene Unit," he introduced, extending his hand toward Jamie.

"Detective Jamie Reagan," the younger man replied, shaking Mac's hand.

"I've heard a lot about you. Congratulations on your promotion."

"Thanks."

"Don's on his way, but we have a scene to get to, so he asked if I would stop by and see if you were here to give you a ride over."

"Oh, okay." Jamie grabbed his things out of his desk drawer and followed Mac out of the squad room.

* * *

"So, how long have you worked with Detective Flack?" Jamie asked as the two rode in the Avalanche.

"Eleven, almost twelve years," Mac replied. "He's a great, dedicated detective."

Jamie nodded, but said nothing.

"You worried about something?"

Jamie shrugged slightly. "More like confused," he said.

Mac glanced briefly over at Jamie.

"Detective Taylor…"

"Mac," the older man corrected gently.

"I'm sorry. Mac. Does Flack… what's… what's up with the desk?"

Mac looked over at Jamie again.

Jamie caught Mac's eye. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have asked."

Mac shook his head. "It's okay," he replied. "Questions are a good thing. But that's something you should ask Don, not me."

"Would he give me a straight answer?"

Mac chuckled slightly. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Jamie nodded, but said nothing.

* * *

"Well, I'd heard Don had a new partner, and I was wonderin' if I was gonna get to meet him anytime soon," an older woman said as Mac and Jamie ducked under the crime scene tape. "Jo Danville."

"Jamie Reagan," Jamie replied as he looked around.

"Gang shoot-out," Jo continued, gesturing to the scattered bodies and shell casings. "Watch your step, Jamie."

"Will do." Jamie recognized Messer and Hawkes further into the scene, along with another woman snapping pictures of everything. But who he didn't see was Flack. "Who called it in?" he asked as he continued observing the disaster zone.

"Several people up and down the block," Jo told him. "This neighborhood is smack in the middle of two rival gangs, and they're fightin' over it like hounds on a T-bone."

Jamie nodded. "Anyone see who fired the first shot?"

"No one's come out with that one yet. I'm thinkin' most of our eyewitnesses are lyin' right here."

"Any make it to the hospital?"

"Two were transported to St. Victor's."

Jamie smiled slightly. "Perfect. My sister-in-law's an ER nurse over there."

Jo smiled. "Perfect."

"Anyone seen Flack yet?" Jamie asked.

"Not yet," Jo told him.

"But traffic in this area is murder this time of day," Messer piped up from a few feet away.

Jamie half-nodded, half-shrugged.

The other woman seemed to finally notice the new detective on the scene. She smiled, pulling the camera away from her face. "Hi," she said. "Detective Lindsay Monroe-Messer."

"Detective Jamie Reagan," he introduced with an easy smile.

"She's already got me, Detective," Messer piped up, half-teasing, half-warning.

Jamie held up his hands in concession. "I wasn't even going there."

"Good, because you'd never hear the end of it," Flack said as he walked up. "Sorry I'm late. What'd I miss?"

"Two eyewitnesses in the hospital," Jamie replied. "Gang shooting. Los Lordes versus what looks like Il Diavolo."

Jo tilted her head. "Where'd you get that from?" she asked.

Jamie nodded at one of the bodies. "That one's Rico Moniz. I was there when my brother arrested him two years ago in the Bitterman Houses. He was a low-level street thug for Los Lordes then, but with most of the crew still upstate, he'd moved up the food chain. And as for the other group, Il Diavolo's territory is a few blocks east of here, so it's more like an educated guess."

Jo continued to look at Jamie curiously.

Jamie shrugged. "I know the area a little," he explained.

"Jamie's been in the 12th Precinct for five years, working the beat," Flack added.

Jo nodded, winking at Mac as she turned back to the crime scene.

"We should go looking for witnesses," Flack said to Jamie, patting his arm and ducking back under the crime scene tape. Jamie followed.

* * *

Flack was quiet again this morning, not saying much of anything. Jamie hesitated, but chanced it anyway as the two drove to the hospital. "Is everything alright?" the younger man asked.

Flack looked over at Jamie. "What?" he asked.

Jamie shook his head, focusing on the road. "I don't know. It just seems like something's up."

Flack chuckled slightly. "You've only known me for two days, Reagan. You don't really know much about me yet."

Jamie nodded, sighing quietly.

Flack said nothing further, and neither did Jamie, which made for an awkward time as they got stuck in traffic.

* * *

"Hey Linda!" Jamie called as Flack followed him through the ER.

Linda looked up from the chart before her. "Somehow seems strange seein' you in here out of uniform," she told him.

"Yeah, I bet. Detective Don Flack, my partner. Linda Reagan, my sister-in-law."

"Nice to meet you," Flack said, shaking her hand.

"Likewise," Linda replied. "So, what can I do for you?"

"Two guys were brought in earlier from a shoot-out," Jamie said.

Linda nodded. "You caught the case?"

"Yeah. What can you tell us about them?"

"They're in surgery. One of them is fading fast, the other may pull through."

"Either one say anything?"

Linda shrugged. "Armand Guitierrez, the one that might pull through. He won't talk at all. Luis Kartol might not make it. He's been askin' for a priest and sayin' this was all for Francesca."

"Who's Francesca?"

"Francesca Diamond was a woman who owned the diner up the block from the alley where the shooting took place," Flack explained. "She was found dead two weeks ago…"

"Near the Bitterman houses," Jamie finished. "I remember hearing about that. Los Lordes was rumored to be involved."

"More than a rumor. Rico was the lead suspect in Francesca's murder."

"So that means this was payback."

"Which also means, we're not done. We're in the middle of a gang war."

Jamie sighed, shaking his head. "I got an idea. Let's put 'em on a ship in the Atlantic and let 'em fight it out. Last man standing wins."

Linda arched her eyebrows at her brother-in-law.

Flack chuckled softly. "I like how you think, Reagan," he said.

"You need to stop hanging out with your brother," Linda cautioned.

Jamie just smiled.

* * *

Outside, though, someone wasn't smiling. He loaded the clip into his rifle, cocked the gun, and nodded to his partners. Because this was going to end today.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm glad you guys liked the last chapter. This one has a little more action in it. See the first chapter for the disclaimer. I hope you guys enjoy this one, and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter Six

"Do we know roughly how much longer?" Flack asked Linda.

She shrugged. "No way to know for sure," she replied. "Armand may be out soon, but I think if Luis is going to have any chance, he'll be in surgery for hours. Are they rivals, or same gang?"

"Gang unit says Guitierrez and Kartol are both Il Diavolo."

A person in the distance caught Jamie's attention, and he straightened up slightly. He couldn't put his finger on it at first, just knowing it was someone he recognized from somewhere. Then, it dawned on him.

The Bitterman Houses.

Jamie instinctively inched his hand toward his gun, which caught Flack's attention. He looked in the same direction as his young partner, noticing the man dressed in Los Lordes colors. Flack nudged Jamie's arm.

"Call security," Flack instructed Linda. "Tell them to lock down the ER and call in the NYPD."

"Why?" she asked.

Flack didn't answer the question as he and Jamie moved toward the man. The man grinned, which made Flack hesitate. Jamie, however, kept moving forward.

"Reagan," Flack said softly.

Jamie glanced back.

Flack simply shook his head.

Jamie nodded, stopping where he was and allowing Flack to walk up to him. "What?" Jamie asked quietly.

"He's not alone," Flack replied, matching Jamie's tone. "We're outnumbered."

Jamie looked around the ER, realizing Flack was likely right. No gang would send only one guy in to finish two hits. "I'm not liking these odds," he said softly.

"You're not the only one."

"Call for backup?"

"Should be on their way. Your sister-in-law was gonna call them."

Jamie nodded, sighing. "So, now what?" he asked.

"Pray nothin' goes down before they get here."

* * *

When the call for immediate backup at Saint Victor's came over the radio, Danny flinched. Baez immediately radioed in that they were responding, knowing there had been enough violence there lately. Linda had been shot once already, and it almost tore Danny apart. He could see that nightmare before his eyes as Baez sped to the scene as fast as the car would take them. Danny just hoped it was quick enough.

* * *

As Linda made her way back from behind the desk, Jamie ushered her into another room. "Stay here," he told her. "Danny will kill me if I let anything happen to you."

"I'd love to stay in here, but I got patients," Linda reminded him as she tried to push past him.

Jamie, however, kept her in the room. "So, just work on catching up with charting or something. Anything that can keep you in this room until we get things under control. If you were to ever get shot again…"

"And what do you think your brother's gonna do if _you_ get hurt? Huh?"

Jamie sighed heavily. "He can survive without me. He'd die without you."

Linda level a half-glare at him.

"Listen, please just stay here?" Jamie asked.

"Jamie, I gotta go out there," she replied. "They need me."

"Don't make me have security guard the door."

She shook her head. "You wouldn't."

"Don't test me." Jamie walked outside, pushing the door closed behind him. After he walked out, he approached Flack. "Where'd our friend go?"

Flack shook his head. "Walked behind one of the curtains," he said, gesturing in the general direction. "Don't know how many others might be hidin' behind there, but I'm thinkin' we got about two more minutes before this place turns into the Wild West."

"So, what's our best move?" Jamie asked.

Flack nodded at the visible ambulance entrance doors. "Security's got the ER locked down. Our best bet is to hang tight for the moment, wait for backup."

Jamie nodded, watching the same area Flack's eyes seemed trained on. But what they weren't watching was the group of Los Lordes creeping up behind them.

Flack shifted, feeling eyes on the back of his head. When he looked back, he noticed the gang members. "We're almost surrounded," Flack whispered to Jamie.

Jamie nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly. He casually walked over to the nurse's station, turning to one of Linda's colleagues. "Hey, Jana, can you get something for me?" he asked one of the nurses.

"Like what?" Jana replied, curious.

Jamie leaned forward, making it look like he was flirting with her. "A chart, a piece of gum, I don't care what it is, as long as it gets you away from this desk right now."

"Are we in trouble?" she whispered.

"Probably will be very soon."

"I'll get that for you." She walked away toward another area of the ER.

Jamie glanced over to Flack, who was also charming the ER staff to other areas away from what was about to be a shootout. Jamie knew that the gang members weren't unaware of what was going on, yet they didn't seem startled by the concept. Jamie realized they were waiting for the right moment to strike, but what didn't hit him right away was why.

Then it dawned on him.

He took out his phone, shooting a quick text to Flack before turning to another staff member in the ER. "Can you do me a favor?" he asked the nurse.

* * *

Flack pulled out his phone when he felt it vibrate, having seen Jamie typing in his phone moments before. _I think they're waiting for the rest of Il Diavolo to come around,_ the text read. Flack tried not to react as he texted his partner back.

_They can't get to the guys in surgery, so they're going to get what they can. And take down anyone who gets in their way._

Flack looked around at the people still loitering around the hallway of the ER, wondering how much more time he and Jamie would have to clear the crowd before things pop off.

_They've been watching us. And they're not stopping us from getting people out of here._

Flack read Jamie's text again, thinking. Jamie was right, but Flack had a feeling why they weren't going after innocents. _Los Lordes is out for revenge. They ain't gonna get it wastin' bullets on unarmed civilians in an ER._

Flack watched the guys that had come up behind him, recognizing that they had barely moved from their spot, but that only two were watching the ER. The rest were watching the waiting room. No doubt the guy they had spotted earlier was hunkered down, watching the ambulance doors. Flack sighed when another thought hit him.

One he was quick to share with Jamie.

* * *

Jamie glanced at his phone as he moved behind the nurse's station. _They're not waiting for Il Diavolo so they can hit them. They're hidin' out here, thinkin' they'll be safe here._

Jamie glanced at the gang members watching the waiting room, realizing Flack was right. They were definitely waiting for something. Jamie glanced to his left as Danny approached. "What's goin' on, kid?" he asked as he walked up.

Jamie nodded at the Lordes's members watching the waiting room. "There's a couple more in another room near my partner," he said softly.

"Linda?"

"In a room. She's as safe as she can be. We've been working to clear people from the hallways."

"We got more units rollin' up outside," Baez said as she made her way over.

"What're they waitin' for?" Danny asked.

"Either for the heat to die down, or to finish the hit," Jamie replied. "This started with a big shootout that we caught."

Flack made his way over to the nurse's station, joining the others. "This is about to be one big ass crime scene," he said.

One of the members of the Lordes shifted his position, causing all four detectives to become alert. When he drew his weapon, so did they.

"Don't even think about it," Danny said.

"Drop your weapons," Baez added.

Rather than listen to the police, the members of Los Lordes implemented their own plan.

* * *

Linda hunkered down as shots rang out throughout the ER. All she could hear was the explosions of the bullets and the shattering of the glass. And though she feared for her colleagues and her patients, she knew the best thing she could do was shelter in place until the shooting stopped.

And hope that there weren't too many bodies to pick up after this.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay between chapters. I'm trying to finish off an old story ("Who Says You Can't Go Home," a CSI/CSI:NY crossover) while working on this story and "Sleeping at the Wheel" while dealing with normal life stuff. But I realize that I really left this story at a horrible point of a cliffhanger, and for that, I wholeheartedly apologize. See the first chapter for the disclaimer. I hope you enjoy this one, and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter Seven

The gunshots that rang out died down to the screams of the patients and other patrons of the ER that were terrified by their visit. Many of whom were going to need a lot more than the care they had originally come in for. Between the sounds of the guns, the bullets flying through the curtains, and the innocent people who got caught in the middle, the psychiatry and psychology staffs at St. Victor's were going to have a lot of work to do.

Not to mention the ER staff.

Bullets flying everywhere had led to more casualties, and while none of the assembled officers had wanted to start shooting in a hospital, their hand was forced when Los Lordes fired first. They knew the only way this would end would be if the Lordes went down.

Unfortunately, some of the officers went down, too.

Linda had come out of the room as she had heard shouts of "clear" and "all clear" ring through the ER. Through the chaos of the aftermath, she managed to find Danny and Baez standing over two members of the Lordes who were bleeding on the floor. Around the corner, Flack was over another member who was clearly not going to make it, having taken a bullet to the head. But who she couldn't seem to find anywhere was her brother-in-law.

"Jamie?" she called out softly.

* * *

Danny recognized Linda's voice, and turned to face her. "Linda," he started.

"Danny, where's Jamie?"

Danny looked around the ER, quickly scanning all the faces as the Lordes were cuffed prior to getting treatment. "Jamie?" he called out.

Danny's shout caught Baez's attention, and she moved away from them to another spot in the ER. "Jamie?" she said as she, too, began the search.

Flack holstered his gun as he glanced to his left, looking at the last place he'd seen his partner. Jamie, however, was no longer there. Flack looked down the hallway to his right, toward the testing rooms of the ER. He opted to head that way to find Jamie, figuring that everyone else had the main part of the ER covered.

As he walked down the hall, he heard what sounded like two people fighting. He pulled his gun back out of its holster, on the off chance that something were to go wrong. As he got to the corner, he slowly poked his head around it to find Jamie trying to take down a member who had clearly run from the melee in the main area. Jamie slammed the kid into the wall, taking him down to the floor finally. Flack gathered from the looks of things that the scuffle had gone on for some time.

"I see you have things under control," Flack said, putting his gun away again.

Jamie looked up, blood coming down his face from a cut above his eyebrow. "Yeah, think so," he replied. "You all good there?"

"Yeah, we're clear out there."

Jamie stood up, yanking the kid up on his feet. "That's not what I meant."

Flack furrowed his brow curiously.

"You're bleeding, Don," Jamie said, gesturing at his partner's shirt.

Flack looked down. "Huh. You know, you are too."

"Good thing we're already in a hospital, huh?" Jamie walked the kid down the hallway toward the main area as Flack followed.

* * *

"Don't ever do that to me again, Kid," Danny warned his younger brother as he and Flack returned to the makeshift triage amidst the center of the ER.

"What, go chasin' the one that's runnin'?" Jamie replied. "Isn't that part of my job?"

"You disappeared."

"So did he. I did what I had to do." Jamie passed the kid off to one of the uniforms on scene. "Take him back to the precinct."

"You got it, Detective," the officer said, taking the kid away.

"Jamie, come over here," Linda said. "We gotta look at you."

"I'm fine," Jamie replied. "It's Flack that needs the help."

Flack glanced down at his shirt again. "I'm not sure it's mine," he said.

"Both of you, get over here," Linda said. "And if you try to leave, I _will_ get you."

Flack and Jamie looked at each other.

* * *

"You sure you're alright?"

Flack groaned slightly as he shifted behind his computer. "Yeah, Dad, I'm fine," he replied, rolling his eyes slightly.

Jamie sighed, both annoyed and concerned. "I just mean…"

"Jamie, I'm okay. Doctors swore by it and everything."

Jamie nodded.

"Are you okay?" Flack asked as he looked over at his partner.

"Yeah, fine," Jamie answered softly.

Flack nodded, not buying it for a moment. "Drinks after shift?"

"Sure."

Flack watched Jamie for a moment as the younger man went back to working on the reports required after today's blood-fest. He could tell there was a lot on Jamie's mind, but now wasn't the time to ask too many questions. Now was the time to get work done, so that later, that conversation could occur.

At least this time, there would be a later.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I'm sorry for the long delay between chapters. I've been really busy. :( But, I appreciate all of you sticking it out with me, and reviewing all along. It's very much appreciated. :) See the first chapter for the disclaimer. I hope you enjoy this one, and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter Eight

The bar up front was busier than the pool tables in the back, so Jamie and Flack decided to shoot some pool while they enjoyed their beers. As Jamie pondered the placement of the balls on the table, looking for his best shot, Flack studied his partner.

"You're overthinkin' it," Flack advised him.

Jamie scoffed. "You sound like my sister," he replied.

Flack shrugged. "Then your sister's one incredibly smart woman."

Jamie chuckled slightly, taking his shot and sinking the 9 ball.

"You ever been in a shootout like that before?" Flack asked, trying to get Jamie to not bury today's action.

Jamie bobbed one shoulder as he chalked his cue and analyzed the table again.

Flack watched his younger partner before shaking his head. "You're impossible."

"I'm Irish," Jamie replied. "We don't talk until we're drunk and fighting."

"True."

"You Irish?"

"Yeah. My grandfather taught me a few key phrases in Gaelic."

"Like what? Eat shit and die?" Jamie took his shot, sinking the 15 ball.

"You mock, but I can pick up quite a few ladies with my Irish brogue," Flack commented in his best Irish accent.

"I'm sure Detective Lovato _loves_ that," Jamie quipped, looking up at Flack.

Flack tilted his head.

"Remember, I know Adam," Jamie said.

"Fair enough," Flack replied. "But that goes two ways."

Jamie tipped his cue toward Flack. "Which is why Adam knows nothing."

"There that much to know?"

Jamie didn't answer, instead shooting at and missing the 13 ball.

Flack put his beer down as he grabbed his stick. "You know, when you're quiet, you say a whole lot more," he commented.

"That sounds like an excerpt from Chicken Soup for the Interrogator's Soul," Jamie replied.

Flack snorted slightly. "That how you survived your brother?"

"You've met him. You tell me."

Flack nodded. "Actually, I've met both your brothers. And your sister. She's tossed a case or two of mine."

Jamie scoffed again. "Yeah, mine too."

"That's cold. Her own _brother_?"

Jamie laughed lightly. "I'm pretty sure she's tossed more of Danny's cases than anyone else's."

"Combined?"

Jamie shrugged.

Flack lined up and took his shot, dropping in the 6 ball. "Alright, I gotta know," he said to Jamie as he moved around the table. "What the hell am I supposed to teach you when you're already better than most detectives in the squad?"

"How to hold my liquor better?" Jamie replied.

Flack laughed softly.

"I don't know, man. There's always something to learn."

"That's true," Flack said as he continued to ponder his next move.

"And, I mean, right now you're teaching me how to pole and table dance all at once," Jamie joked.

Flack shook his head. "You might wanna keep away from comedy, Reagan. Doesn't quite suit you."

Jamie smiled slightly.

Flack took his shot as Jamie drained the last of his beer.

"Another one?" Jamie asked.

"Sure," Flack replied.

Jamie nodded, making his way to the bar. Once he returned, Flack asked, "so, we gonna keep dodging real questions all night?"

"That's up to you," Jamie answered.

"Hey, I'm willin' to answer questions. You're the one that's ducking them."

"Fine. You ask, I'll answer."

"How about answerin' the question I asked you earlier?"

"Which is?"

"Have you ever been in a shootout like that before?"

Jamie nodded. "About two and a half years ago, me and my partner, Vinny, got ambushed in the Bitterman Houses."

Flack stiffened slightly. "Vinny Cruz was your partner?" he said softly.

Jamie nodded again. "He died in my arms."

Flack inhaled deeply and sighed. "I'm sorry, man," he said genuinely.

"Thanks," Jamie said softly. "Vinny was good people. Great partner. Pain in the ass sometimes, though."

"The best ones always are," Flack said with a smirk.

Jamie smiled. "I'm not gonna ask you if you've ever been in a shootout like that, because I'm pretty sure you have."

"A few," Flack acknowledged.

"I remember hearin' about a memorial for a detective bein' shot up a few years ago."

Flack stiffened again, though more noticeably than the first time.

"I take it that the memorial was for your partner," Jamie said quietly.

"Jess was more than that," Flack replied.

"She was the keeper of the desk?"

Flack looked at him.

"The desk sergeant did a double take when I mentioned what desk you were letting me have," Jamie explained. "Figured there was someone important to you that used that desk before I got there."

"Yeah," Flack breathed.

"I'm sorry."

Flack nodded. "Me too," he said as he took his next shot.

Jamie held up his beer. "To fallen brothers and lovers," he said.

"Yeah." They clinked glasses and took a drink. As Flack put his beer down, he said, "I wish I could tell you that every shootout afterward wouldn't trigger the memory of the worst shooting of your life, but I'd be lyin' to you, Jamie."

Jamie nodded.

"And I wish I could tell you the aftermath gets easier to deal with, but it doesn't."

"Today didn't have to happen," Jamie said softly.

"No, it didn't," Flack replied. "But, it did. And I know you've seen it as a beat cop, and I know you know it doesn't ever really get any easier to be in that mess."

"I know. I figured that out a while ago."

"But the reason we have partners is so we have a brother or sister in arms who can relate to what we went through. Who can be there. Support each other."

Jamie paused as he looked at Flack quizzically. "Dr. Phil?"

Flack groaned in annoyance. "I'm bein' serious, Reagan. For once."

"I thought you were the tough one, and Messer was the one that was more in touch with his feelings. After all, he's got a wife and daughter."

"You know how many nights Messer and I did this when he was single? We _still_ do this sometimes."

Jamie sighed softly. "I guess I just never really debriefed with any of my partners before. Except maybe Eddie, but even then, it was more about making sure _she_ was okay."

"That's the hazard of the younger partner."

"I was her training officer. Talk about scary."

Flack chuckled softly. "For you, or for her?"

"Both," Jamie replied.

Flack just shook his head.

"She's a good friend," Jamie said.

"Yeah, so was Jess, at first," Flack said. "And Lovato."

"Eddie and I never really crossed that line." Jamie paused. "Except for that one time when we were kinda drunk."

"Just so you know, Reagan, that ain't happenin' tonight."

Jamie laughed.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you all so much for sticking by me, even with the long delays between chapters. See the first chapter for the disclaimer. Happy holidays!

* * *

Chapter Nine

"Funerals suck."

Jamie arched his eyebrows, looking away from the monitors and over at Adam after his outburst. "Come again?" he said.

"Funerals suck," Adam repeated as he hit a few keys on the keyboard before him.

"Where, exactly, is this coming from?"

"I don't know, I was just thinking out loud."

"About... funerals."

Adam shrugged. "What, did you have something better to talk about?"

"I'm pretty sure any topic is better than funerals."

"I'm _pretty_ sure I can find a topic _worse_ than funerals."

"Like what, the finer points of necrophilia?"

"Excuse me?" Messer asked as he passed through the doorway to Adam's lab. "The _finer_ points of necrophilia?"

"It's a worse conversation topic than funerals," Jamie explained.

"Again, I ask, there are _finer_ points of necrophilia?"

Jamie tilted his head to the side and back. "I suppose there are, if you're in to that kind of thing."

"And…?"

Jamie shrugged. "And I prefer living, breathing women."

Adam smirked as Messer shook his head and left the room, muttering something about not wanting to know anymore.

Jamie looked at Adam. "You could've warned me about that," he said.

Adam shrugged. "You're a detective now," he replied. "You should know better than anyone how to put pieces together. There's only glass around here."

Jamie shook his head. "Still. Heads up, man."

Adam just smiled.

* * *

"How's the new partner?" Mac asked as he and Flack sat in Mac's office.

"He's good," Flack replied. "Too good. I'm runnin' out of things to teach him, other than how to get away with doin' bad things."

Mac laughed softly.

"How's Christine doin'?"

"Hangin' in there. She's on bed rest for the last trimester and trusting her staff to run the restaurant."

"It'll be over before she knows it," Flack said. "And you'll have a little munchkin to chase around."

"Not right away, thankfully," Mac said.

"Goes by fast. At least that's what Messer keeps sayin'."

Mac laughed again.

* * *

"So, what _would_ be the finer points of necrophilia?" Adam asked as he skipped to the next section of video for him and Jamie to review.

"Wouldn't have to buy her dinner," Jamie replied easily.

"Or listen to her complain about her job."

"Wouldn't have to meet the family."

"Or the nagging friends. Michelle's amazing, but her friends are psychotic."

Jamie chuckled. "So, you fit in well with them, then."

Adam shook his head. "They're worried about _my_ family."

Jamie looked at Adam seriously. "Wouldn't you be?"

Adam shrugged lightly. "I guess. But I like to think that me and my sister turned out alright."

"I haven't met your sister yet."

"I haven't met _your_ sister yet, either."

"That's probably not a bad thing," Jamie said. "That means you haven't been dragged across her carpet."

"You have?" Adam asked.

"Part of the job."

Adam shook his head. "You lawyers always stick together."

Jamie shrugged partially. "Well, most vampires have a nest…"

* * *

Mac and Flack could hear Adam's laughter from across the hall, which caused both of them to smile. "Jamie fits in well around here," Mac commented.

"He's a good kid," Flack replied. "I don't think there's too many places he doesn't fit in."

Mac shrugged slightly.

"Actually, I take that back," Flack said. "He's the PC's youngest. I know that makes some cops hesitant around him."

"Not you?" Mac said.

Flack shrugged. "He's a good kid," he repeated. "Besides, I'm the senior partner. I get to pull rank."

Mac laughed softly.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I apologize for the long delay. Please note that I do, in fact, have an endgame in mind for this story, and a way to get there, but I haven't had much time to write lately. But, I figured I would take advantage of a snowy day, and hopefully provide some entertainment to all others who find themselves afflicted. See the first chapter for the disclaimer. I hope you all enjoy this one, and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter Ten

Jamie was late.

Flack wasn't sure how much he should read into the situation. Three months into this partnership, though, and Jamie had never been late. From what he'd heard, Jamie'd never been late _ever_.

So, where was he?

When Jamie finally _did_ come in, Flack smirked, finding himself oddly (and inexplicably) relieved. "Just roll outta bed?" he asked.

Jamie shook his head. "Firearms requalification," he explained.

Flack nodded. "How'd you do?"

Jamie shrugged one shoulder. "Better than Danny."

"Messer or Reagan?"

Jamie smiled, almost proudly. "Both, actually."

Flack chuckled. "Nice to see I've taught you somethin'."

Jamie laughed.

"Well, since you're finally finished shootin' up things, we caught a break in that arson case."

"Which one, the flamethrower or the Molotov cocktail?"

Flack furrowed his brow. "The torched car." He paused a moment before saying, "do we really have three open arsons?"

Jamie scoffed slightly. "Four, if you count the guy they found burned to death next to the Hudson last week."

"I thought that was the flamethrower."

"I thought the flamethrower victim was a woman."

Flack thought for a few minutes, recounting case details in his head. "You're right. Flamethrower was Maria. Hudson was Carl. But who was Molotov?"

Jamie considered it before answering, "Sarah."

"And torched car was Hank," Flack said.

Jamie knit his brow in contemplation. "Does it seem odd to you that we have had four different victims killed by fire over the last five weeks?"

"Yeah." Flack grabbed his coat. "Let's run with it."

Jamie nodded as he followed suit.

* * *

"So, we have four vics in five weeks killed by fire," Flack said.

"There can't be _that_ many arsonists out there," Jamie added.

"Is there anything linking these people?"

"Nothing," Mac said. "We have four different methods of delivery, four different locations. Maria was a doctor, Carl was homeless, Hank was a firefighter, and Sara was a bartender."

"Bartender killed by a Molotov?" Jamie asked.

"Carl's home was near the Hudson," Flack added.

"Firefighter killed in a car fire," Mac said.

"But why use a flamethrower on a doctor?" Jamie asked.

"Weapon of convenience?" Flack postulated.

"Who conveniently has a flamethrower lying around?"

"You mean you don't?"

Jamie shook his head at Flack, who smirked.

"If we do have a firebug, we know he won't stop," Mac said, ignoring Flack and Jamie's banter. "He started with torching Hank in his car."

"What if Hank wasn't his first victim?" Jamie questioned.

"We got four other boroughs," Flack said.

"Guy switches delivery systems often, different jurisdictions…"

"We could have a lot more victims out there."

* * *

"Detectives from Brooklyn Homicide are sending copies of four odd fire deaths," Flack said. "Get this, all in the last five weeks."

"Homicide in the Bronx is a little too happy to pass theirs off," Jamie said. "They have five."

"Five in Queens, also," Mac added.

"None in Staten Island," Messer said.

"Wanna bet that's where this guy lives?" Jamie asked.

"Too easy," Jo said as she came in. "Why strike that close to home?"

"Just doin' the math here, we have 18 victims in five weeks," Flack pointed out.

"That may or may not be connected. What made you guys look into this?"

"Harvard figured four in Manhattan was odd."

"Won't seem so odd if we find a connection," Jamie said.

* * *

"So, the earliest case is Tim from the Bronx," Jamie said as the group poured over the enormous amount of case files. He put her picture on the screen in the front of the timeline.

"Then Tamara from Queens," Mac said.

"Next was Hank from Manhattan," Flack said.

"Then Jose from Brooklyn," Messer said.

"And then the next victim is from the Bronx again," Lindsay said.

"He's systematically going through these four boroughs, but that's not the only pattern," Jo pointed out. "Look at the methods."

"First four vics were all torched in their cars," Hawkes read off.

"Second four were all killed by flamethrowers," Lindsay said.

"Third were all struck with Molotov cocktails," Messer said.

"Fourth, lighter fluid," Mac added.

"And these last two were killed with kerosene," Flack said.

"Each time, he needs to be closer to his victim as he starts the fire," Jo pointed out.

"And he always goes from the Bronx, to Queens, to Manhattan, to Brooklyn," Jamie said.

"We scanned surveillance footage in Manhattan, found a few common people," Adam said. "I'm crossing them with scene surveillance from the other crime scenes."

"We also have the advantage of knowing that the next place he'll strike is Manhattan."

"Manhattan's a big borough," Messer pointed out.

"We get the word out to all five boroughs," Mac said. "Have every cop out there looking for the guys Adam's found so far, as well as anyone who's buying kerosene. Jamie, you might want to brief your father on this."

Jamie nodded.

* * *

"Why would someone light someone else on fire?" Jamie asked as he and Flack sat at their desks, monitoring the tip line.

"Why not?" Flack replied. "Works just as good as any other murder weapon."

"But it's much easier to shoot someone, and generally safer to stab someone. So, why fire?"

Flack shrugged. "Shooting leaves behind bullets that can be traced. Stabbing, you risk cutting yourself or getting hurt, which'll leave behind evidence. Fire, however, generally destroys evidence."

"But not all evidence."

"Trace and DNA would be gone, though. Except for trace from the fire."

"Because fire creates its own evidence."

Flack nodded. "Fire's unpredictable. Maybe we oughta canvass clinics and hospitals for burn patients, coinciding with the dates he switched to being up close and personal. When was that?"

Jamie looked at the timeline. "About six days ago."

"So, we send the mugs of the lookee-loos to docs at clinics and hospitals in all five boroughs."

"Or maybe just Staten Island," Jamie said. "Wouldn't you go to your home doc if you just committed homicide?"

"Hmm, not sure," Flack countered with a grin. "I don't often commit homicide."

"Really? I thought that was your weekend gig."

Flack half-shrugged. "Gave it up for the holidays."

Jamie laughed.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews for this story! They are very much appreciated. I do have an ending planned for this story in the near future. In the meantime, see the first chapter for the disclaimer. I hope you all enjoy this one, and please review! :)

* * *

Chapter Eleven

"I can't just _give_ you a hunting license," Erin told him as she walked into her office with him following closely behind. "Especially when you're asking to look around in other jurisdictions."

"Come on, Sis," Jamie tried. "Arsonists usually get burned when starting fires. We have a face…"

"But, you don't have a name. And I can't get you a subpoena for medical records if I don't know who you're looking for."

"We're working on it, but it'd be a lot easier if we had that subpoena."

Erin sighed. "My hands are tied here, Jamie."

"This guy is burning people to death, Erin. 18 people in 5 weeks."

"Be that as it may, I still can't help you."

"His next victim is out there in Manhattan somewhere. Some poor person is about to be burned to death. Soon."

"I'm sympathetic, Jamie. Believe me. And when you have something more than a face and a supposition that this alleged arsonist is from Staten Island, I will be happy to help you. But, until then…"

* * *

Flack was leaning against the car when Jamie walked out of the DA's office. "No dice?" he asked.

"Nope," Jamie replied.

"That's cold, man. Your own sister."

"I told you, man. I knew it'd be a long shot."

"Yeah, but we had to take it. So, let's move on to plan B."

"Waiting game. Either Adam or the tip line should pay off soon."

"My money's on Adam," Flack said as he got into the car.

Jamie followed suit. "Mine too."

* * *

"So, I've managed to isolate one guy who pops up later on at almost every crime scene," Adam said to the assembled team a little later in the day. "All except two- the last ones. I think that's because he got hurt."

"He needed to get out fast," Lindsay said.

"I ran facial recognition on him. His name's Leo Thompson, and according to the DMV, he lives in… drum roll please…" Adam drummed, despite the fact that no one joined in with him. "Staten Island." Adam shook his head as he put the folder down. "No love."

"Great job, Buddy," Jamie said, winking at Adam, who continued to shake his head.

"Let's get an APB out on Leo Thompson right away," Mac said. "Great work, Adam."

"Thanks, Boss," Adam replied.

* * *

Leo Thompson wasn't home.

Which, of course, was unsettling to the team, because that meant that he was most likely out in the hunt for his next victim.

Which lead Jamie and Flack to patrolling Manhattan, looking for him. Or, more accurately, anyone who slightly resembled him, because medical records showed that Leo had suffered second degree facial burns five days ago. Though, it hadn't stopped him, or even really slowed him down.

"I think I got him," Jamie said, pointing down an alley.

"You sure?" Flack asked.

"…Mostly. About 76%."

"76?" Flack asked as he turned the car down the alley.

Jamie didn't answer as he focused on the two people in front of them: Leo, and his unfortunate victim (who was crying, because he knew what was coming).

"NYPD, Leo," Jamie said as he and Flack got out of the car, guns trained on Leo.

"Now you've done it," Leo muttered to himself.

Jamie and Flack shared a quick look. "Leo, look at me," Jamie said, his voice more gentle than before. "Leo, you don't have to do this."

"Yes I do," Leo replied. "He said I had to."

"He who?" Flack asked.

"You already know who," Leo accused, looking at Flack with a deep glare.

"I don't know who, Leo, so why don't you tell me?" Jamie asked.

"Him," Leo said, pointing toward the ground.

"The devil?"

"Yes. Lucifer, he said I had to."

"He said that you had to burn these people?"

"Yes."

Jamie took a few steps forward. "Lucifer, see, he's an angel, right? Does it make sense to you that an angel would ask you to harm another person? Angels are gentle beings. They wouldn't ask you to hurt anyone."

"No?" Leo asked, growing confused and starting to lower his arms.

"No. Of course they wouldn't. God is about compassion and forgiveness, right? And angels, they're God's army, they're the ones He commands to help spread His word and his commands. He wouldn't dictate to the angels to kill people."

Leo put the lighter down, contemplating what Jamie had said. As he did, Jamie moved forward, kicking the lighter away from Leo. "Come with me, Leo," Jamie said, leading a now very confused Leo toward the car.

"Glad this wasn't the 24%," Flack commented.

"Me too," Jamie replied, smiling.

* * *

"So, we have a psychiatrist heading down to see if Leo's competent enough to stand trial," Jamie said. "You know, because Lucifer made him do it."

"You lied to him," Flack teased.

"I may have highlighted some of the kinder points of the Bible that aren't as harsh."

"'Angels are _gentle_ beings?'"

"Would you rather I tell him that if an angel really wanted these people dead, it would've just smited those people itself? And, by the way, Lucifer actually _was_ an angel, since you were trying to call me out on it earlier."

"Still the Devil."

"Well, the whole angel tangent got him to put the lighter down, didn't it?" Jamie reminded him.

"Yeah, it did," Flack conceded.

"So, who cares?"

"Well, I can think of someone who _would_ care. But I think you oughta pay better attention when you go to church on Sundays."

"Shut up."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Only two chapters left after this one. I hope you all enjoy this one, and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter Twelve

"I'm serious, I need back up."

Flack shook his head, looking over at Jamie. "At your brother's birthday party?" he asked.

"You've met Danny," Jamie replied.

"I thought that's why you had Linda."

"Linda is going to be a little preoccupied trying to keep Jack and Sean in line, especially since Jack is looking for a wife already."

Flack furrowed his brow. "Is he even old enough to get married?"

Jamie shrugged one shoulder. "Not in this country."

"I don't know, man…"

"It's just dinner… except for the added drinking. Danny's partner's going to be there too, and she may or may not have her boyfriend… you can bring the other Jamie."

Flack shifted his weight against the desk.

"Janko's coming too," Jamie said. "So you can stay with someone who can eat her own weight in food all night if Lovato's not available."

"How _does_ she do that?" Flack asked.

"Tapeworm?"

Flack chuckled softly. "I'll think about it."

"Okay, fine. But don't make me get Messer on this."

"What?" Messer asked as he out from interrogation.

"Reagan's tryin' to strong-arm me into going to his brother's birthday thing," Flack explained.

"I need back up," Jamie said.

"With your own family?" Messer asked.

"Trust me."

Messer shook his head, walking away while muttering something about having a crime to solve.

"Does he just _pretend_ to be busy, or does he work with other Homicide detectives?" Jamie asked.

Flack laughed, shaking his head. "Be glad he didn't hear that," he warned.

"I could take him."

Flack laughed again. "Alright, so when is this thing?"

"Tomorrow night," Jamie replied.

Flack nodded. "I'll check with Lovato. No promises."

"That's fair."

* * *

"I'm gonna kill you."

Jamie rolled his eyes. "We heard you the first 1,000 times, Harris," he replied.

"I don't give a damn who your daddies are. You two dickbags are dead."

"Should we add that to his charges?" Flack asked Jamie as they rolled up to the precinct.

"Threats aren't enough," Jamie replied as they got out of the car, bringing Harris with him. "When he charges at us or spits on us, I'm there."

"You'll never see me coming," Harris said. "One day, you'll wake up and be dead, and that'll be me."

"You _do_ know you don't wake up when you're dead, right?"

Harris growled in response to Jamie's comment, lunging.

"How about now?" Flack asked.

Jamie shrugged. "He's all talk." Jamie pushed Harris toward the doors of the precinct. "After all, he only goes after innocent women."

"I do not," Harris grumbled.

"No?" Jamie replied as they walked inside.

"I beat the shit out of that guy on 34th."

"Which guy?" Flack asked.

"That homeless guy on 34th. Don't know his name, and don't really care. Piece of shit was in my way, so I got him the hell out of my way."

Flack and Jamie shared a look.

"Well, that was the easiest confession I ever got," Jamie said.

"Wait, what?" Harris asked.

"You all heard that, right?"

The cops in the entry way of the precinct nodded.

"I didn't confess to nothin'," Harris said.

"You've been read your rights already," Jamie reminded him.

"You shoulda paid more attention," Flack added.

"Please, someone bring this moron down to booking," Jamie asked, passing Harris off to a uniform.

"You're both dead," Harris shouted as the uniform led him away.

"Good luck in prison."

Flack shook his head. "Dumbass," he commented.

"Well, if they were smart, we'd be out of a job," Jamie replied.

Flack chuckled. "Nice job."

Jamie shrugged. "It's easy to make them mad enough to confess when they're that stupid. I was more worried he'd try to prove just how 'big' he is."

Flack laughed.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews! I truly appreciate them. :) See the first chapter for the disclaimer. This is the second-to-last chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one, and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

"I don't blame him for needing back up," Lovato teased as she and Eddie made their way over to the bar for a refill.

"Oh, they haven't even started yet," Eddie replied. "Just wait."

"Until the Commissioners have left?"

Eddie nodded, signaling the bartender. "They usually take the kids with them."

"Should I be afraid?"

"They're pretty harmless, or at the very least, you could take them," Erin said from next to Lovato. "Erin Reagan."

"Jamie Lovato," she said, shaking Erin's hand.

"Nice to meet you. Eddie, haven't seen you in a while. How's everything going?"

"Not too bad," Eddie said. "How about you?"

"Pretty good. How's your new partner?"

"He's okay. I miss Jamie, though."

"I felt the same way after I left Flack," Lovato said. "Flack was a very good partner."

"Jamie too," Eddie said.

"Well, here's to our good partners becoming good friends and good partners to each other."

"Hear, hear."

"I'll drink to that," Erin added as she clinked glasses with the girls.

* * *

"Should we be worried?" Flack asked Jamie as he watched the girls at the bar.

"Only if Linda joins them, or they decide not to come back," Jamie replied.

"What happens if Linda joins them?"

"Then, we're in trouble, and they never leave the bar."

"Why would _we_ be in trouble?"

"A question that will never be answered, because there is no logic when my sister and sister-in-law get together. Especially when girlfriends are involved."

"Girlfriends?" Flack asked, slightly amused. "I mean, I _know_ when me and Lovato happened, but when did you and Janko…?"

"It was a figure of speech," Jamie attempted.

Flack chuckled lightly. "Oh, so this was fairly recent then."

"…Maybe."

"Nicely done." Flack extended his glass toward Jamie's. "Cheers."

"Cheers." The partners clinked glasses before each taking a drink of their respective beers. "So, you call her Lovato instead of Jamie?"

"Nah, she's Jamie, unless I'm talkin' to you."

Jamie smirked. "Wouldn't wanna get confused there?"

Flack snorted softly. "You two are nothing alike."

"Sure. I mean, I'm a dude you're not sleeping with…"

Flack cut him off with a shove, causing Jamie to laugh.

* * *

"Should we have really left them alone?" Eddie asks, looking back at Jamie and Flack.

"They're alone every day," Lovato replied. "What harm can they do to each other right now?"

"You don't know my brother when he's been drinking," Erin said, smiling.

"Oh, yeah, Jamie with alcohol leads to some interesting things," Eddie added.

"Really?" Lovato asked, tilting her head. "You don't say?"

"Is that right?" Erin asked, looking over at Eddie with a smile.

"Sure," Eddie said. "I've been out drinking with him enough to know."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's all you two were doing," Lovato said with a wink.

Eddie blushed slightly.

"Hey, I can't really talk," Lovato added. "I'm in the same boat as you."

"Really?" Erin said. "You and Flack?"

Lovato shrugged. "It just kinda… happened."

"What are you three up to?" Linda asked as she walked over.

* * *

"Oh, we're in for it now," Jamie said, tipping his glass toward the bar.

"Now would be a good time to go outside for a smoke, huh?" Flack asked.

"You know I don't smoke."

"Neither do I."

Jamie shook his head. "Yeah, maybe we should get some air."

The two made their way outside, standing in the alley next to the bar. "Should we duck out entirely?" Flack asked.

Jamie laughed. "Only if we don't like to live."

A shadow appeared, followed by flashes, as shots rang out through the alley.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I promised that it wouldn't be that long before I followed up (because that's too mean). So, here is the final chapter of this story. I thank you all so much for coming along with me on this story, and for waiting patiently between really long periods of not updating this story (and still coming back to it when I did). See the first chapter for the disclaimer. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I hope you all find it to be a satisfying end to the story. Thanks again for sticking with it. :)

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

The monitors weren't beeping, and he found the silence oddly comforting, if for no other reason than it meant that his partner was still alive. There wasn't meant to be any audio from them, unless there was a real problem. The dull light coming from the machines were the only lights in the room, shrouding the cluttered space in nearly hazy darkness. But, light wasn't necessary right now, because there wasn't much to see.

Aside from his partner, lying relatively lifeless, in the bed.

A victim of an off-duty shooting. One that was meant, in all honesty, to take _him_ out. Which means that his partner took bullets meant for him… a thought that didn't sit right with him.

He shifted in the uncomfortable visitor's chair, watching the rise and fall of his partner's chest. His partner wasn't intubated, which was always a good sign. But, there was always so much more to worry about, especially with abdominal wounds.

His partner wasn't out of the woods yet, but he wasn't likely to die, unless things took a sudden and drastic turn. The doctors were hoping for no complications, and he found himself in the same boat they did. Along with himself praying to God that his partner pulled through, because he couldn't go through that again.

Losing another partner.

Holding his partner in his hands as the life drained out…

He shook that thought out of his head, not wanting to relive that day. Today was different. Today, his partner was lying in front of him, breathing on his own, with a significant chance of pulling through this.

_Good thing that Harris had no aim_, he thought to himself.

He wasn't the only one keeping vigil, as his partner's family was scattered around the waiting room. But the family was kind enough to give him some time alone with his partner, time to think, time to speak.

Time to apologize. Time to make amends, to set things right.

"I'm sorry," he told his partner softly.

He wasn't expecting a response, which is why the middle finger that got raised in his direction was quite the surprise. He wasn't sure he saw it at first, given how dark the room was, but as the arm moved upwards a little bit, he recognized that he was, in fact, being flipped off by his partner.

"You're an asshole," he said, shaking his head.

His partner's smirk was barely visible in the darkness.

"You better not do that again."

"I scare ya, old man?" Jamie croaked out softly.

"Not just me," Flack replied.

"I know." Jamie shifted in the bed. "So, you got him, huh?"

"Yeah, we got him."

"Is he gonna live long enough to stand trial?"

"He didn't live long enough to make it out of the alley. Especially not after your brother, his partner, our partners, half of the party…"

"Yeah, I get it," Jamie interrupted.

"Erin packs?" Flack asked.

"Not usually. But, she's a better shot than Danny. I haven't gone shooting with her lately, though, to see who's got more skills between her and me…"

"I would say, 'you could take her,' but I don't know about that after today."

Jamie laughed softly.

"How you feelin'?"

"I'll live," Jamie replied.

"You shouldn't have done that," Flack chastised.

"Well, if you caught the bullets, we wouldn't be having a conversation right now," Jamie countered.

"Still…"

"Don't start with that."

"Well, don't jump in front of a gun for me."

"Well, don't piss people off, and no one will wanna shoot us."

"I think you're the one that pissed Harris off."

Jamie shrugged. "Who cares? Bastard's dead." He shook his head. "Moron."

"No such thing as a smart criminal," Flack reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah," Jamie retorted.

Flack patted Jamie's arm, standing. "I'm gonna leave you to get ambushed by your family now. You get better soon, Reagan."

"Thanks."

"And don't you ever make me think I'm losin' another partner again, or I'll shoot you myself."

"Noted." Jamie shifted. "I'm sorry to put you through that again. I've been there, though, and I couldn't go through that again either."

"Yeah, well, next time we go out, we both wear bullet proof vests. Deal?"

Jamie laughed softly. "Deal."

Flack patted Jamie's foot before walking out of the room.

The End


End file.
